Spy Life
by kittykatkaren97
Summary: Alfred F. Jones is a young spy with a lot of potential. But when he's targeted by a shady organization with an unknown purpose, will he live to tell the story?
1. Orders

**A/N: Le short introduction chapter is short. I try to make my chapters at least 1,000+ words, but like I said, this is just an introduction chapter. Also, the title may or may not change. Enjoy~  
Reviews are appreciated. **

* * *

"Do you understand that if you fail in this mission, it could – no, it will – result in a catastrophe?"

Arthur Kirkland nodded. He knew that very well, in fact. After all, with who they were dealing with, one mistake could have very grave consequences.

His boss hummed for a second. "Although I suppose that I shouldn't be concerned about you failing a mission, should I? That is why this particular one was assigned to you." There was a moment of silence. "Alfred F. Jones. He is an American spy, young and spoken very highly of, especially for a fairly new agent. In the Surface, he is the manager of a repair company." He slid a file across the table.

Arthur opened the cover and was met with a picture of a young man with wheat blond hair, glasses, and bright blue eyes, smiling brightly. He flipped through a few of the other pages while his boss continued.

"Your job is to befriend him and gain his trust. Then, you can carry on with the other part of your mission. You know the stakes. Best of luck to you."

He got up and exited the small room, leaving Arthur to contemplate how to move forward from there.


	2. The First Meeting

**A/N: Le new chapter~ Thanks to the two people who reviewed last chapter [and the one that threatened me]. Though I can't garauntee that I'll be writing for this all that often, since my main writing project right now is my other Hetalia fanfiction. [If you get bored of waiting for me to update this, feel free to go check that one out.]**  
**Once again, feedback is greatly appreciated.**

* * *

"Ah, another day again," Alfred said, even though there was no one around to hear him. He got ready for work and left, taking his time to get to his building as he wandered the busy streets of DC. He didn't have an assignment at the moment, so he was determined to make today a good one. It wasn't often that this happened. His spy work could get pretty hectic, after all.

When he arrived at his building – more of an office than anything – he saw something that he wasn't quite used to. Being a repair company, most customers called in for jobs they needed done. Most of them certainly didn't just walk on over to the office to ask for a job in person.

But yet there he was. A man who couldn't be more than a few years older than Alfred with sandy blond hair that had green and white streaks in it, and a black suit. He looked like he should fit right in, right along with all of the other business people in DC, but something about him stood out to Alfred. Alfred walked over to him, determined to figure out what it was. Upon closer inspection, Alfred saw that the man also had emerald eyes and bushy eyebrows.

The man looked at him expectantly. "All right? You are Alfred F. Jones, yes?" At Alfred's confused expression, the man held up a business card that Alfred recognized as the one for his own company. "I suppose it would be polite to introduce myself then, hm? I'm Arthur. I asked for you at the front desk and the lady told me that if I wanted you specifically, then I would have to wait here."

Alfred blinked. Why did the business card have his name on it? He'd have to see into that later. "Um, right, okay. Yes, that's me. I hope you weren't waiting too long. What can I help you with?"

In response, Arthur held up a gold pocket watch that he pulled from his suit pocket. "This is very precious to me. It belonged to my father, and before him, his father, and so on. You might say that it is a family heirloom of sorts."

"I see," Alfred responded absently, reaching out a hand to take the watch. He frowned as he turned it over in his hands. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it; this was a repair company, wasn't it? Alfred supposed that he could just be having an off day. It happened.

Arthur politely clicked the watch open, revealing the cracked glass on the inside and other damage that Alfred tried to make out. "That is what I'm asking for you to fix," Arthur explained.

"That makes more sense." Alfred nodded with finality. "How did it get broken, anyway?"

"I recently moved here from London. I suspect it got broken in shipping."

London, huh? That would explain the British accent. That would explain why Alfred had never seen him before, despite knowing at least the faces of most of the locals. That would explain why he stood out. That would explain why he seemed different.

"I'm sorry," Arthur continued when he didn't receive an answer. "This is a mistake on my part; this is a repair company, but I must have gotten confused on what kind of repairs you do. I suppose I'll have to take my business elsewhere, then. I apologize for the disturbance."

"No!" Alfred denied immediately. "It's not your fault. You just moved here, after all. How were you supposed to know? You're right that we usually do bigger repairs, but we can do smaller things. What do you say we talk business over lunch? I know this great Asian restaurant."

Arthur's lips turned up into a small smile. "You are quite full of beans, aren't you? Very well, I am a bit famished myself."

Alfred grinned, not even trying to understand the Brit's first statement. "Great!"

~0~0~0~

The ten minute walk to the restaurant was fairly silent. After they sat down and ordered their food, Alfred peered curiously at Arthur. "So you're from London, huh? What's it like, living there?" he asked curiously.

"Normal." Arthur shrugged, crossing his arms over the table. "Then again, I grew up there, so I may not find it as exciting as you appear to."

Alfred snorted. "Normal? Is that what you call it?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "DC isn't quite normal either, but you seem to think so. Why can't I think of my hometown as normal and not yours, or vice versa?"

"I mean, I wasn't implying that there was a problem with thinking that. Or, well, trying to. Anyway, why is it important that I fix your watch personally?" Something about Arthur was still suspicious to him.

The Brit stared at him for a moment before responding. "You are the manager. As I said before, the watch is very important to me. I suspect greater work from the manager of the company than any regular employees. Am I wrong in that jurisdiction?"

"No," Alfred said slowly. "I'm just not all that familiar with fixing watches." Arthur's reasoning did make sense. "It may take me a bit to figure it out, though, so I hope you're patient."

"As patient as I need to be." Arthur changed the subject, "There are a lot of museums in Washington, yes?" Alfred nodded. "Are there any you'd recommend?"

Alfred thought for a moment before he came up with an answer. "The Spy Museum is one. There's a lot of interesting information there. You know, about spies and all that."

Arthur's eyes lit up. "Spy Museum? Yes, that does sound quite fascinating. You are interested in spying?"

"Well… yes," Alfred admitted. Why did he have to bring spying up? Although, it would be suspicious to change the subject now. Best to just go along with it. "Did you know that Washington DC has the highest concentration of spies than any other city in the world?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I knew that. It makes you look at everyone differently, doesn't it? Because you never know who could be a spy, and who's against you. They blend in perfectly with everyone around them. Even the most innocent looking people could be the most deadly. It's the perfect cover."

"Yes, it is." Alfred grinned. "Did you know that you share the first name of one of the most well known spies?"

"Arthur Kirkland. Yes, I was aware. I'm quite interested in the topic of spies myself. You know of him?"

Alfred snorted, still smiling. "How could you like spies and not know of him? Dude's only famous for being one of the best spies ever! No one even knows what he looks like or if he's actually a real person. He's my idol."

"If you were a spy he'd be your idol, you mean. It would be strange for an ordinary man to idolize a spy," Arthur pointed out. "What do you find so great about him?"

"Well, yes, if I was a spy." Alfred laughed sheepishly. "And he's heroic. All of his known missions are for helping people and… yeah."

Arthur gaze never wavered. "But if no one knows much about him, how do you know that's what all of his missions were about? The thing about the spy world is that there's a lot of cover-ups and missing or false information. Being a spy is all about lying and deceiving people. Is that world heroic itself? How can any people in it be heroic?"

Alfred frowned. Maybe lying was unheroic, but what about if it's for a good cause? If it's for helping people and helping his country? If it saves people? Isn't that what being a spy is about, at least an American one? Alfred always liked to think that he was doing just that. He always tried to be heroic, and he thought Arthur Kirkland was just that, so of course he looked up to him. Even if no one could prove that he was real. Realizing that Arthur – sitting across from him – was waiting for him to say something, Alfred grinned again rather abruptly. "I guess it just depends on how you look at it, then. I still think he's heroic."

"Hm." Arthur looked up as their food arrived. "Thank you," he said to the waitress, and Alfred repeated it as his food was set down before him. They ate in relative silence aside from small chit chat about the watch business. When the check and fortune cookies came, Alfred announced that it was on him and took his cookie.

He frowned at what it said. "'The road ahead is riddled with many dangers,'" he read.

Arthur opened his but didn't bother reading his fortune. "Ominous," he commented.


End file.
